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A gentle dawn, a peaceful sky,
Abhishek's care, Malini's heart's reply.
He lifts her up, in his strong arms' fold,
A haven found, her fears to unfold.
Her body's ache, a silent cry,
He tends to her, with a loving sigh.
The warmth of oil, his hands' gentle touch,
Easing her pain, with a loving clutch.
Her eyes downcast, her heart's fragile beat,
He coaxes her close, in a loving retreat.
The world outside, fades into the night,
As he shows her love, in the morning's light.
A soft kiss, a whispered promise true,
He'll be there for her, through all she'd do.
The cramps subside, in his loving care,
Malini's heart, in his love, finds repair.
In his arms, she finds a peaceful shore,
A love that accepts, and asks nothing more.
The pain fades away, like morning's mist,
Replaced by a sense, of being truly kissed.
•·•·•·•·•·•·••●❍•❅•°•❈•°•❅•❍●••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•
28th April, 1846
Calcutta, Bengal
ABHISHEK POV~
I wait outside the bathing room, the stillness of dawn settling softly around me.
The horizon blushes faintly with the first breath of morning, streaks of peach and lavender smearing the edge of the sky.
A cool breeze flutters through the air, brushing against my skin like invisible silk.
I close my eyes and breathe it in… the earthy scent of dew, the delicate fragrance of jasmine from a nearby bush.
Sparrows chirp somewhere above, their tiny voices weaving into the rustling lull of neem leaves swaying overhead.
It's quiet.
Serene.
But not for long.
A soft creak disrupts the hush, pulling my eyes open.
The door opens just a little.
And then, there she is.
A faint smile tugs at my lips.
She peeks out, hesitant, as if unsure whether to step into the light or disappear into the shadows again.
"Come," I say gently, extending my hand toward her. "You need to rest."
She stands stiff, barely able to straighten herself.
Her posture is tense, fragile like dew under strain.
My smile fades as I take in her face— drawn, pale, dimmed of its usual fire.
Her fingers brush against my palm.
Cold.
Thin.
Trembling.
A frown settles between my brows.
Something about the way her body leans, the slowness of her steps…. each movement speaks of discomfort and pain.
She walks like the night has drained the life from her.
My heart aches quietly, watching her like this.
With a soft exhale, I bend down slightly, lowering myself to her eye level.
Her brows furrow, lips parting just a little as she stares at me, clearly puzzled by my movement.
Then, in one swift motion, I slide my arms around the backs of her thighs and lift her gently off the ground.
A sharp gasp escapes her lips, her body jolting in surprise.
Her arms instinctively loop around my neck, holding on tightly.
Her heartbeat flutters against my chest— fast, startled, uncertain.
"W-what are you doing?!! Put me down!" she exclaims, craning her neck to meet my gaze, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Shh… let me carry you," I murmur softly, steadying her weight as I begin walking through the dewy grass. "You're in no condition to run or jump."
"I wasn't running or jumping! I was walking!" she argues back, wriggling like a panicked kitten.
"That too," I reply, fighting back a chuckle.
She's light— too light. Like she's been carrying weight she shouldn't have.
Her scent— earthy, floral, tinged with the lingering essence of the hibiscus paste she just used…. tickles my senses.
"And stop wriggling," I warn, my voice teasing as I tilt my head a little closer to hers. "Or else—"
I trail off deliberately, smirking when I sense her stiffen against me.
"O-or else? Or else what?!" she sputters, narrowing her eyes in panic as she clutches my shoulders tighter.
Her cheeks flare pink, and I can't help but let a soft laugh escape.
"I'll…" I murmur, my voice hushed and slow as my eyes drift downward…. drawn to the trembling curve of her lower lip.
She bites it softly…. hesitantly…. as though she's trying to silence the storm inside her.
"I'll kiss you," I whisper, letting the words fall between us like sparks.
A slow, teasing smirk tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch the effect of my words sink in.
Her eyes widen like startled moons, snaps to mine, her entire body stiffening in my arms.
Her breath stills.
It's as if I've just spoken the most scandalous secret in the world.
"Oh… b-but… you always kiss me. What's new in that?" she stammers, trying to sound unaffected, but her voice shakes with nervous innocence.
Her smile is fragile, flickering like a flame in the wind.
I chuckle softly, savoring the moment.
"I'm not talking about the forehead kiss," I whisper, lowering my head closer until my breath grazes the shell of her ear.
She stiffens again, and her eyes flutter open wider— glistening, startled, curious.
"—T-then?" she breathes, her voice a tremble, barely audible, searching my eyes as if trying to decipher a riddle.
"What do you think?" I murmur, my gaze dipping briefly to her parted lips… tinted rose from her nervous nibble, before slowly meeting her eyes again— locking, steady, unblinking.
I press my tongue lightly against the inside of my cheek to stifle the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth as I watch her expression shift— confused, horrified, embarrassed.
She stares for a beat.
And then… slowly… without a word, she turns her head away, cheeks burning like dusk-kissed clouds, and covers her mouth with her palm… as if her touch could guard her lips from mine.
I chuckle softly, the sound vibrating in my chest, echoing between us.
My chest warms.
I don't move any closer.
I just watch, memorizing her.
"What happened, Phoenix?" I ask softly, letting my voice dip into feigned innocence, though my smile betrays the mischief beneath.
She quickly shakes her head, still refusing to meet my gaze, her hand firmly covering her lips like a guarded secret.
I arch a brow, amused.
"Why are you looking away? Don't you trust me… your husband?" I tease, stepping into our room as the soft wooden creak of the floorboards follows beneath my feet from the garden corridor.
A chuckle bubbles from my chest as she gives a stubborn shake of her head again, her posture still turned away from me like a sulking child.
"So, you don't trust me?" I repeat, gentler this time, as I slowly lower her onto the bed with care, one hand behind her back and the other cradling her thigh until she lands softly against the sheets.
Her fingers remain clamped over her mouth.
"No. I don't. Not in this," she mumbles, her voice muffled and shaky, disappearing behind her palm like a whispered protest caught in a veil.
I can't help but chuckle again— low and fond… as I slide beside her on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under our shared weight.
I reach for her gently, wrapping my fingers around her slender wrist.
"Come on. I was joking," I say, my voice dipping with affection as I carefully pull her hand away from her face.
Her lips are pink from being hidden and pressed, and her cheeks are tinged with a lovely warmth.
"Now lie down," I say, brushing her hair back from her forehead. "And rest."
But she doesn't move.
She remains sitting upright, body bent slightly forward, eyes downcast…. guarded still.
I study her quietly, the dim light from the open window washing across her silhouette like water over stone.
"Is it hurting too much?" I ask, my voice hushed, eyes locked onto hers.
She nods faintly, her lower lip jutting into a delicate pout, brows slightly pinched as if every breath aches a little.
My heart clenches at the sight… she looks so fragile, like a wilting flower under monsoon winds.
Her vulnerability pulls at something deep inside me.
"Lie down. Let me take a look," I murmur, coaxing her gently onto the bed, guiding her back against the soft cushion of pillows.
Her long hair fans around her head like dark silk.
I turn away for a moment, reaching for the small brass bowl sitting on the wooden stool.
The faint aroma of garlic wafts up, sharp yet comforting, mingled with the earthy scent of mustard oil… something both medicinal and maternal in its warmth.
I had prepared it earlier when I came to fetch her saree.
Rubbing the bowl in my palms for a moment, I pour a generous amount of oil into my hand.
The warmth seeps into my skin, and I rub my palms together slowly, creating a quiet rustling sound between my fingers.
Then, carefully, I slide the edge of her saree upward, revealing her tender belly beneath.
Her breath hitches.
His touch makes me feel divine.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻.✾.჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻
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